What Might Have Been Lost
by adriaticjellyfishsting
Summary: Zuko discovers new information about the whereabouts of his mother, and embarks on a trip with a reluctant Azula to find her again, if only for a sense of closure. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, only a computer. **

**What Might Have Been Lost: Chapter One**

Zuko twirled the lighter between his fingers, watching the light glint off of its silver edges. The orange light of the sunset drenched the stale waiting room, the color giving it a remote feeling that there might possibly be life in there, not just cold, hard plastic chairs and five month old magazines. It didn't make it feel that much friendlier though, and Zuko tapped his foot nervously, flicking the lighter open and closed as he waited for woman behind the plexiglass screen to tell him that he could come in.

He hated this place. He hated everything about it, from the sterile linoleum floors to the generic watercolor prints of beaches that were hanging on clean, white walls. He hated how it smelled, he hated how the water from the stainless steel drinking fountain tasted, and more than anything he hated that he had to come here. He didn't have to come often, only a few times a year, but every single time required so much mental preparation, and after he left, he wouldn't feel like himself for weeks. Today was worse, though. It wasn't one of the required visits on birthdays and during the holidays. Today, he had news to bring.

There was a tapping sound, and Zuko looked up. The woman behind the plexiglass was standing up, motioning towards the heavy looking door on her left. Nervously, Zuko got up.

"It's nice to see you again," the woman said warmly, holding the door open for him.

"Yeah," he muttered in reply, still flicking the lighter open and closed.

It didn't escape the woman's notice.

"I'm afraid that you can't take that in with you," she told him apologetically, "You can leave it with me and pick it up on your way out."

Zuko flicked it shut, holding on to it for a second before handing it over to the woman.

"Thanks," the woman said.

They wound their way down brightly lit hallways, and Zuko found himself trying very hard not glance into all the rooms that they passed. With no lighter to play with anymore, he plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, clutching at the fabric.

"Just through here," the woman informed him, gesturing at a door on the right.

As she knocked, Zuko waited, holding his breath.

"Come in," he heard her say from the other side of the door.

The woman turned the knob, and held the door open for Zuko.

"Here you go," she said, "Let us know if you need anything."

For half a second, he squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, and then forced himself to walk through the door. Zuko entered the room, and glanced around him. It wasn't really any different than the last time that he'd been there. The walls were painted a pale yellow color, with one window, and the only furnishings were a small bed, chest of drawers and an armchair, squished into a corner of the room next to a standing lamp.

Sitting there in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other, staring out of the window, was Azula. For a minute, Zuko didn't say anything, and just stood there, observing his younger sister.

She looked thinner, less muscular than she had when he had last seen her, and her hair was in desperate need of a cut. Long, dark, and unruly, it hung in her face, over her almost sickly pale skin. Zuko felt ill.

"Azula," he said, still not stepping forward.

Slowly, she swiveled her head around so that she was looking at her brother.

"It's not a holiday," was the first thing that she said, "Why are you here?"

Zuko sighed and scratched his head. He hated this so much.

"I think I know where mom is," he told her, glancing up at his sister to try to gauge her reaction.

For an almost imperceptible moment, Zuko saw Azula's eyes widen, and all her fears and memories and anger flash through them, before returning to a blank sort of gaze, her expression unreadable.

"So what?" Azula said, "What are you telling me for?"

"I just thought you'd want to know," Zuko mumbled.

He didn't want to ask her. He wanted more than anything to turn around and sprint out of the room, back to the reception area and take back his lighter, get in his car and speed home, but he couldn't. Before he had come, he had made a promise to his uncle that he would at least ask her.

"I'm going to look for her. I can bring you along if you want to come."

There. He said it.

Azula's fingers dug into the armchair, and Zuko winced as he remembered just how clawlike and painful her nails were. She turned her head to look back out the window.

"Don't you remember Zuzu? I can't leave this place. You're the one who put me in here, so you should know all the terms and conditions that applied."

Zuko looked at his feet. He remembered all too well making the decision to put Azula in this place, remembered the long discussions he had held with his uncle and with the doctors. It was a time that he'd rather just forget, but he knew that would never happen. Until the day that he died, he would remember the gleam of betrayal in Azula's unhinged expression as the doctors had taken her away.

"I've talked to all the doctors," he explained finally, "They said that you're doing really well, and as long as you have someone around to make sure that you're doing everything that you need to do, and my permission because I'm your legal guardian, that you can leave."

He waited for a response, watching Azula stare out the window at the setting sun.

"And what makes you think that I even want to see mom, if you really found her? What makes you think that she wants to see us?" Azula snapped, spinning back to look at Zuko, "She's had plenty of time to come and find us. It's not like Dad's really around to stop her anymore. Face it Zuzu, she just doesn't care enough about us to even make an effort."

Zuko clenched his fists, wishing once again that he had his lighter. He cracked his fingers, and marched over to Azula. He wasn't going to let her do this. Not this time.

"You're lying and you know it, Azula. Mom loves you, she loves us. You're just scared to see her, and you're scared for her to see what's happened to you," he seethed, standing directly in front of his sister.

She looked up and Zuko met her eyes, judging by the watery sheen of her golden eyes that he had been exactly correct.

"And so what?" she hissed at him, "I don't have to see her if I don't want to."

Zuko nodded, still watching his sister carefully.

"I know you don't, but I think that you need to. We both need to. Even if you never see her again, you need to see her just this once. For closure, Azula," he whispered, mentally thanking his uncle for making him rehearse what he was going to say to her.

There was no response. Azula looked away from him once again, her eyes drifting back to the window. Her hair was long now, all the unevenness from when she had chopped it off now gone. It hung limply in her face, and Zuko remembered with sadness how much pride she had always taken in it when she was younger, how it was always perfectly brushed and styled.

"For closure?" Azula repeated the phrase slowly, still not looking at her brother.

"Yeah."

"Fine," Azula said, "I'll go with you to find mom, but don't blame me if this ends poorly."

Zuko nodded, and the awkwardly stepped back from his sister.

"I guess you should pack your stuff then," he said, shifting from foot to foot, "I'll go wait outside in the yard."

It was cooling off outside, with the sun almost all the way down. Zuko stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the vivid green landscape. He wasn't sure how he felt about bringing Azula with him. On the one hand, he was relieved, because it meant that her mental state had improved, and that maybe their family might be able to work out some of its issues. But on the other hand, he was terrified. He and his sister didn't exactly have the best relationship, and spending weeks with her in a car with awful gas mileage and a less than reliable air conditioning system could be disastrous, not to mention how things would go with their mother.

He hadn't planned on asking Azula to go with him, but Uncle Iroh had convinced him that she deserved the chance to make her peace with their mother, or to at least gain some closure on the issue. Hopefully, nothing would go wrong, and maybe after, things could begin to feel right. If everything went alright, Azula wouldn't have to go back to that mental hospital, and could lead a normal life, which was what Zuko wanted for her.

As much has he had hated her at times, and for all the pain that she had cost him over all the years, she was still his sister, and he wanted her to be able to live a happy and content existence.

"I'm done," came Azula's voice from the back steps of the building, "Let's go."

Zuko walked back inside, where he met Azula. She was standing with her bag, a medium sized duffle, and wearing a sweatshirt that she hadn't been before. They didn't speak as they headed back to the reception area. The woman at the desk smiled at them, and Zuko nodded politely back at her.

"Your lighter," the woman said, handing it to him as they passed.

"Thank you," he said.

"It's nothing. Good luck to both of you. Be safe," she told them, and sat back down at her desk, watching them go.

Zuko tossed her bag in the backseat of his old 4Runner, and climbed in the front, waiting for Azula to do the same. When she didn't join him, he rolled down the passenger seat window.

"Come on, we're going," he called to Azula, who was staring at the building where she had spent the last three years of her life.

She turned around and walked slowly to the car, and got in. They drove away down the country lane and back onto the highway, heading into the darkness.

"Since it's late, we're not gonna start until tomorrow," Zuko explained as he pulled off the highway and into a small town, "We can get a room at a motel tonight."

"Alright."

She stayed in the car while Zuko got a room at a tiny place with a buzzing neon sign.

"Room 12," he told her when he came back, grabbing his own bag out of the back of the car.

Azula picked up her duffle and followed Zuko to the room. It wasn't much, but it was fine for a night.

They didn't say much of anything as they got ready for bed. It was strange, being around his sister again, and he was sure that she felt the same about him. It was so different than before. He wasn't used to her silence, and while he didn't miss her cold and cutting remarks, their absence was unfamiliar.

Zuko crawled under the covers in his boxers, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Azula got in her own bed not long after, and he turned the light out. In the darkness, he could hear Azula breathing, most likely as quietly as she possibly could. The breaths were so controlled, so careful, that Zuko knew she was trying not to cry, her breathing far too even.

"Azula," he whispered, thinking about all the times that he had tried not to cry at night and there had been no one there to tell him things would be alright.

"What?" she said, her voice flat.

"I'm glad you're coming with me," he said, and however unsure he was of this whole plan, and whether or not it would end well, he meant it. He really did mean it.

* * *

this is an AU that's been stuck in my head for a while, and now that I finally got around to starting it, I'm gonna have to kick my own ass to get myself to finish it completely. Thanks for reading, reviews are always appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, only a computer**

**What Might Have Been Lost: Chapter Two**

"Morning, kids! What can I getcha?" asked the beaming waitress, pulling a pen out from behind her ear.

Zuko stared at her tightly stretched smile for a moment before ordering.  
"I'll have coffee, black, and oatmeal," he said, and she scribbled it down.

"And you, darling?" the waitress asked Azula, "What do you want hun?"

Azula folded her menu and placed her fingers together in a pointed steeple.

"I'll have bacon and eggs. Scrambled," she instructed before the waitress even had a chance to open her mouth to ask, "And just water to drink."

The waitress smiled at them, took the menus and left. Zuko flicked his lighter open and closed while they waited for her to come back.

"Does it bother you?" Azula asked, looking up from the spot she had been staring at on the table.

"Does what bother me?"

"When people like the waitress stare at your scar, obviously," Azula said, snorting, "She _was_ doing her best not to gawk, but come on, Zuko, you had to have noticed."

He snapped the lighter shut and set it down hard on the table.

"No, I didn't notice," he said truthfully, "And I'd appreciate it if you could not make problems where there aren't any."

"Whatever, Zuzu," Azula replied, shrugging.

"And don't call me that," he snapped at her.

The waitress returned with their food, and this time, Zuko paid attention to the extra couple of seconds that the woman's heavily lined eyes lingered on him, on the tough, red skin that covered half his face. He flinched, realizing that Azula had been right.

"Thanks," he said sharply to the waitress as she set his bowl down in front of him, "If we could just get the check now."

"Of course, sweetie," she replied, and Zuko clenched his fingers around his silverware.

It had been years, and even though he was better about it than he used to be, staring at his scar was still a sure fire way to get on his bad side.

They ate quickly, and when Azula had finished scraping the last of the eggs off of her plate, Zuko left the exact change for the bill on the table. No tip.

It was just past nine in the morning, and the streets of this small, upstate town were just beginning to crawl to life. Not that it was all that lively. Zuko guessed that the only traffic jams around here were when cows decided to wander onto the highway and not move for a few minutes. It was nothing compared to New York traffic.

As they headed out, Zuko glanced over at Azula, who was staring out the window, watching the green trees of the countryside roll by. She looked utterly bored, tapping her fingers impatiently on the console.

"Do you want to put on music? Or something?" Zuko asked, scratching his head, "There are some CDs in the glove box, or you can just use the radio."

Azula popped open the glove box, and sifted through the small pile of cases. She let out a bark of laughter, and shut it again, holding one CD in her hand.

"Zuzu, you have the musical taste of an emo middle schooler. But I don't trust the radio either, so we'll just go with this."

She slid the CD in and turned up the volume. It was all finger picking and humming, soft and feathery, weightless sound, quite unlike the heavy, aggressive electronic beats of the music that Azula always used to listen to. Maybe this was just something else that was different about her now.

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Hopefully, she could sleep as much as possible during the trip. By Zuko's calculations, if they drove for eight hours every day, they could get to the town that their mother was living in about five days. The address that he had found for their mother was in a small desert town, outside of Phoenix. Zuko wondered how she had ended up way out there, so far away from the New York home that they had all lived in back when they were still a whole, unbroken family. He wondered if she was happy.

They stopped for lunch at a burger place, and sat an outside table, dipping fries in ketchup.

"Are you done yet?" Zuko asked impatiently as Azula leisurely popped a crispy french fry into her mouth.

"No, and I don't know why you won't just let me finish them in the car. It's a piece of shit anyway, so it's not like I would be ruining the fine leather upholstery with my greasy fingers."

"Because it's a rule. It's always been a rule, and you know that," Zuko said.

"It's never been your rule. It was always Dad's rule, or don't you remember all those times he kicked you out of the car and made you walk the rest of the way home for eating some Fritos in secret?"

Azula's lips were curled into a grin, and Zuko clenched his fingers. He remembered alright. He remembered her telling their father that he was eating chips in the backseat, and he remembered Ozai stomping on the brakes, opening the door to the backseat, yanking Zuko out and tossing him on the ground. He remembered walking home fifteen miles in the middle of the night.

"Just finish your damn fries, alright, Azula?" he said with a sigh, wiping his fingers off on a paper napkin.

"Whatever you say, brother."

Zuko slammed the car door shut when they got back in. With the music back on, they rode until it was dark, neither sibling talking to each other. When Azula finally spoke, Zuko nearly drove them off the rode he was so surprised.

"How do you even know that Mom is where we're going?" she asked,

"I paid this guy a lot of money, and he spent a long time doing research and detective work and he finally tracked her down to an address in a town outside of Phoenix," Zuko said when he had regained total control of the car.

"And you trust this man?"

"Yes."

Azula raised her eyebrows. He really wished that she wouldn't do that; it made him a little nervous.

"Just trust me, alright?" he said, a pleading note in his voice.

Arguing with Azula was at the very top of his list of things he didn't want to do at all if he could avoid it, and mercifully, she let it go.

He drove with his arm resting on the rolled down window, the muggy air hitting his face as they sped down the darkening highway. The road signs were telling him that the nearest town with a motel was still thirty-five miles away, and even in the darkness, the area was beginning to look all to familiar. He heaved a sigh.

The one CD that Azula would listen to had long since played all the way through, and they were sitting, once again, in an uncomfortable silence.

"There's not going to be anywhere open to eat," Zuko commented after a while, "So I guess we're just gonna miss out tonight."

"That's absurd. There is going to be a McDonald's or a minimart open," Azula said.

"We're in the middle of the woods," said Zuko.

"The middle of the woods in _America_," Azula said, "McDonald's and 711s are everywhere."

"Not here," Zuko assured her.

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"Alright," said Zuko, conceding to not argue his point, although he had irrefutable proof.

To be honest, Zuko was glad that he didn't have to explain exactly why he knew that there was nothing in this tiny town that they were going to have to stop in. It wasn't a time that he particularly liked to remember.

Three years earlier, after Azula had been institutionalized at the mental facility, he had gotten back in his car, calmly drove out of the parking lot, and floored it until he ran out of gas. In almost as big a miracle as the fact that he didn't get a speeding ticket, a local had seen him five miles outside of the town, car stopped, and helped him tow it in.

By the time that he had been completely refueled, he had realized that he eaten in over a day, and drove through the town looking for a restaurant that was still open. It had only been eleven, but never in his life had Zuko been a lucky guy, and he found that every minimart, diner, and even the grocery store had been closed. There had not been a single fast food joint for forty miles in any direction, and the vending machines in the park didn't take his cash. In the end, he spent the night in the backseat of his car, parked in the lot behind a local appliance store, listening to his stomach growl and thinking about how feral Azula had looked when he went to go see her.

"This is our exit," Azula said, jerking her hand towards a poorly lit off ramp, pulling Zuko out of his recollection.

They were the only car on the streets, the headlights of the car shining far down the road. He pulled into the parking lot of a tiny motel. Azula came with him to the desk this time.

The jarring jangle of bells greeted them when Azula opened the door. The desk was manned by a bored looking teenager popping her gum and playing brickbreaker.

"Can we get a room please?" Zuko said and the girl looked up.

"We only have singles left, sorry," she said, sounding not at all apologetic.

He gripped the edge of the desk and bit back a frustrated growl.

"That's fine," Azula cut in, "He can sleep on the floor."

He gritted his teeth, glaring at Azula's smirk.

"We'll take it," he said grudgingly, and handed over his ID and credit card.

When all was done, they traipsed down the outdoor walkway to their room.

"I mean what I said about the floor, you know," Azula told him as he slid the room key in.

"I don't doubt it," Zuko muttered.

The floor, however, did not end up being his bed for the night. A surprisingly large and comfortable armchair was sitting next to the bedside table, and Zuko figured if he positioned himself correctly and stretched really, really well before and after, he might be able to get something resembling a good night's sleep. Maybe.

He turned on the TV and flipped channels until he found a rerun of an old episode of Teen Titans. He used to watch that show when he was a kid, and Azula would always make fun of him for it, saying that only babies watched cartoons. Whatever. He didn't care The alternative was some cliched cop show (the lonely detective's new potential love interest is actually a psychopath and is the murderer) or the news, which was both depressing and terrifying. So Teen Titans it was, little sisters be damned.

* * *

sorry for the delay in updating! I've been out of town and had no time for writing at all, so here's a (short) chapter! Thanks for the lovely reviews, and I hope that you like it!


	3. Chapter 3

**disclaimer: I own nothing, only a computer.**

**What Might Have Been Lost: Chapter Three**

Azula was in the shower when his phone rang. Buzzing loudly on the coffee table, a picture of Katara smiling flashed up on the screen. He picked it up and answered.

"Zuko?" she said.

"Yes, Katara?"

"Are you alright? Mai called Ty Lee who called Suki who told Sokka who called me and told me that you went to go see Azula."

She sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, "We're headed to Phoenix."

"_We're?_" Katara said, incredulously, "Who exactly is _we_?"

Zuko rubbed his temples; this was exactly why he hadn't told anyone what he was doing, other than Iroh.

"Azula and I," he told her, "We're going to see our mother."

Zuko could practically hear Katara's shock in her silence.

"I'm sorry, what?" she said, "The same Azula who tried to-"

"Yes, her," Zuko snapped, "The doctors think that she's alright to do this, and so does my uncle. It's just for closure and we'll be done in a week or so. So stop worrying and tell Mai to, too."

"Alright, Zuko," Katara sighed, "Whatever you say."

"Thanks," he said.

"But you should tell Mai yourself."

"Whatever, fine," Zuko groaned, "Say hi to Aang and Toph for me."

"Will do," Katara replied, "And Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call," she said, "You know that we'll always be here for you."

"Yeah sure," he said.

"We miss you."

"I miss you guys too," he admitted.

"Yeah, well, don't be a stranger."

"Alright," Zuko said, "Bye Katara."

"Talk to you later."

She hung up, and Zuko sat there staring at his phone. The door to the bathroom popped open, and Azula walked out in her towel.

"Who was that?" she asked, and Zuko knew that she knew perfectly well who had just called.

"Katara," he said, and watched as her face contorted briefly with buried rage, "Put some clothes on, would you? We have to leave."

"So I take it you're still friends with that lot. That's a shame," she said, ignoring his request for her to get dressed.

Zuko bit his tongue. This was another argument that he didn't want to have. He loved his friends, and his friends loved him. Mai and Ty Lee even loved Azula, and the rest of them at least pitied her. But Azula...Azula would never be able to love any of them, or care about them. They had never discussed it, but he knew how deep what she considered their "betrayal" had cut her. Maybe, if they were lucky, one day she might overcome the desire to strangle them. But if that was going to happen, it wasn't going to be any time soon.

"Come on, get dressed," he said again, "We have to get on the road to beat the traffic."

She snorted.

"Traffic? Zuko, we're in the middle of _nowhere_. There isn't going to be any traffic."

He stood up, rubbing his temples.

"Look, just get dressed so we can go. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can find mom, and the sooner this will all be over, alright?"

She shrugged, smiling at him.

"Whatever you say, brother."

* * *

They were in the car and on the road within half an hour, listening to the same CD as before. Azula was leaning against the window, eyes closed, like she was sleeping. Zuko was sure that she wasn't.

After several hours, they pulled over at a campsite just off the highway. There were public restrooms, probably the only ones for another hundred miles, and Zuko was going to take advantage of that. He parked the car and they hopped out.

The air in the woods was hot and sticky. It pressed on Zuko's chest, trying to squeeze the breath out of him as he walked. There were three other cars in the lot, and a shady looking group of kids hanging around one of the cement tables. As he passed, he wondered what they were doing all the way out there in the middle of the woods. Inside the bathrooms, Zuko was greeted by the stench of shit and the buzzing of flies.

"Great," he muttered, pulling his shirt up over his mouth and nose.

As he was finishing, he heard shouts from outside. He ran back out, looking for the source of the commotion. Then he saw it.

Azula had one of the boys flattened against the side of the car, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

"Let go of me!" he shouted, struggling against the grip that she had on his arms.

Azula was laughing, the boy's friends were rushing forward to help him, and Zuko was standing there, dumbstruck.

"Let go of him you crazy bitch!" shouted one of the boys, who grabbed Azula's arm.

_Big mistake_, thought Zuko, watching as she twisted out of his grip, punched him in the face, and shoved him to the ground without taking her other arm from the boy who she held captive against the car.

"What's going on?!" Zuko shouted, walking forward, "Azula what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"This imbecile here was trying to steal your car," she said, shoving the boy who was pressed against the car, "I was only helping you, Zuzu."

Her eyes flashed with something that Zuko couldn't place-malice, contempt, genuine concern? He didn't know.

Zuko approached the car, rubbing the lighter in his pocket. He really didn't want to get into a fight.

"Hey man," Azula's captive said, "I'm sorry man. We'll leave you alone, just get her off of me."

"Let him go," Zuko said, waiting for Azula to loosen her grip.

She didn't move.

"Come on, Azula. Please."

Without a word, she released the boy, and got into the car. Zuko glanced back at the boys, and climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. They sped out of the parking lot and back onto the highway, neither of them saying anything. Zuko stared at the road ahead of him, trying to work out exactly what to say. Blowing up at Azula like he used to was tempting. But they were trying to make progress with this trip, and shouting at her like it was four years ago wasn't going to help anyone.

"Look," he said, "I don't know what that was back there, but it can't happen again."  
"They were trying to steal your car, Zuzu. I did you a favor."

He took a breath.

"I know," he said, "But I thought that you had been working on nonviolent conflict resolution or something. Anger management."

"I have been," she replied.

"Didn't look like it to me," Zuko muttered.

"Did anyone get seriously injured?" she said, raising an eyebrow, "No. They didn't. Calm down, Zuko. I won't get you into trouble."

_That's likely_, he thought, and cursed Iroh for ever convincing him that this was a good idea.

"Whatever," he said, "Moving on."

She shrugged, and Zuko clenched his fingers tightly around the steering wheel. Five more hours until they could stop for the day, two more until they reached somewhere that he could get a burger.

"Zuzu?" Azula said after a while.

"Yes?" he ignored her use of that ridiculous nickname.

"The next time we stop, we're buying new music or you're buying a car with a working radio."

He turned up the volume of the track that was playing, ignoring her, but from the corner of his eye, he could see her smirk.

Five more hours, he thought. Five more hours and another three days.

* * *

wow it's been a while! sorry about that! I've just been incredibly busy with life, and I'm working on three other stories (which I only recently got around to updating) and all of them have a few more readers than this, so I only felt that it was fair to update those first. But now I'm back into this, and hopefully life will calm down somewhat, and I can update relatively soon. No promises, though!

thanks so much for reading and reviewing! it's always appreciated!

xx


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